


The Protector and the Prince

by TrulyMightyPotato



Series: Royal Expectations [5]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood Magic, also this takes place long before the events of Lord of the Seventh Realm, think, this means they cut themselves, young Wade and young Pat meet for the first time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 15:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10665297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrulyMightyPotato/pseuds/TrulyMightyPotato
Summary: Usually Protectors and noble are bound on the noble's sixteenth birthday, and the ceremony is as seen in Prophecies and War. But if you're a royal, then the ceremony includes a bit more.





	The Protector and the Prince

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to theparadoxicalfox for editing this for me.

Tonight was the night.

Wade Barnes, youngest prince of the Realms, was sixteen. He’d spent the day before his birthday with family and friends, and the day itself preparing for the ceremony, but now it was night. It was time for him to meet and be bound to his Protector.

Wade didn’t know a single thing about his soon-to-be Protector, if he was being completely honest. He’d asked questions when he was younger, and when both his older siblings had gotten their Protectors, but he never did get much in the way of an answer. Mostly, he was told it was peculiar—and since he was a royal, the ceremony would involve more than that of a normal noble’s.

That wasn’t too helpful, considering all he knew about the binding ceremony was that it involved blood magic.

He let out a nervous breath, then looked across the room to where Josh was engaged in conversation with his own Protector, a young man who had been introduced by the name of Ohmwrecker. Watching them was the biggest clue Wade had to how things would go, and how things would be afterwards. Especially since Ohm had apparently already met the person that would be Wade’s Protector.

They’d survived, and so had Ashley and her Protector, so it couldn’t really be that bad, could it?

Wade glanced out the window. It was almost sundown.

“Josh.”

Josh looked over, then glanced out the window and nodded. “Let’s get going.”

The second they stepped into the hallway, Ohm walked off. That was surprising. Wade had never seen him leave Josh so willingly.

“He’s gone to get your Protector,” Josh said by way of explanation. “Come on, this way.”

\-----

Patrck could feel his magic buzzing restlessly under his skin. It was rather like the feeling of having a limb asleep, but a bit less uncomfortable. 

He cursed softly, then glanced around to make sure nobody had heard him. Of course they hadn’t. He’d been left alone in the room. He supposed, generally, it was considered a bad idea to leave a 14-year-old unattended in a room for so long, but he was supposed to be better behaved than the general population of 14-year-olds. 

Of course, the second they’d left him alone, he’d started exploring the room. So far he’d managed to get into the rafters three times and into a network of small hidden corridors that were so dusty he was sure nobody had been there in decades. 

His magic buzzed again, getting closer to the surface, and he groaned. He was trying so hard to control it, but it wasn’t working. How was he supposed to keep the youngest prince safe if he couldn’t even control his own magic properly?

The door opened, revealing the familiar form of Ohm. The two had gotten along well for the time they’d shared lessons, until Ohm left the Guardians to become the Protector to the Crown Prince. Sure, their magics were direct opposites of each other, but they got along well.

Which was good, because they were about to be spending a bunch of time together.

“It’s time,” Ohm said by way of explanation.

Oh.

Pat glanced at his hands, and wished he had a way to make sure he looked like a Protector. It would have helped if the younger prince had had a sigil of his own, but he didn’t, so Pat was left wearing a plain red tunic with gold edging. Which was strange, considering his medallion was black. Maybe it was because the younger prince was younger?

“Ohm?” Pat spoke up, trying to hide his nerves as he pulled on the cloak that would conceal him from curious gazes. He wasn’t old enough to be the personal guard of someone, was he? He was fourteen. There was no way that was old enough. All of the guards he’d seen around the palace grounds had to be at least twenty. That was such a big difference. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

“It’ll be awkward for a while.” Ohm held the door open, then reached in the room and grabbed Pat’s wrist, pulling him out. “But I’d like to point out, he doesn’t know what’s going on either. He doesn’t know what to expect, and he’s just as nervous as you are.”

Pat sighed, pulling the cowl of his cloak further over his face, then followed as Ohm began walking. He knew the rules: now that he was out of the room, he wasn’t allowed to speak until the ceremony, and then he was only supposed to answer the questions. Only after that would he be allowed to speak again.

And that was a real shame, because Pat had a lot to say. 

But instead, he was trapped with his thoughts. What if this younger prince didn’t like him? Pat had watched him through the pools, at least once he learned what it meant that he had a black medallion, but he’d only ever seen him doing formal, princely things. He’d never really gotten to see his noble as himself.

And they were about to be magically bound to each other, for life, with blood magic. What if they ended up being unable to stand each other?

\-----

What if they didn’t like each other?

Wade kept the thought to himself, sure the worry would be brushed aside if he voiced it.

“You’re alone from here on,” Josh said as he came to a stop on the cobblestone of the garden paths, “just keep following the path, and stand on the right side.”

Wade’s heart fell at the words. He’d known he had to make the final stretch of the walk alone, but he had been hoping it was an elaborate joke pulled on him by both of his older siblings.

Apparently not. 

So Wade took a deep breath, then swallowed his fear—literally, and it got stuck in his throat—and kept walking. He knew this garden area well, and he had a strong suspicion the ceremony was supposed to take place in the gazebo at the far end of it.

The walk was a long one, and Wade was more and more aware of his solitude with every step he took. By the time he could clearly see the gazebo (and yes, there was a pedestal sitting there) he could feel the weight of loneliness crushing his shoulders together and making it hard to breathe and...

What if they didn’t like each other? They were being bound for life, and for death to a certain extent. They couldn’t just ignore each other, they were supposed to work as a team. Wade was supposed to be getting a bodyguard, an advisor, a  _ friend _ tonight, but... 

The magic wouldn’t have chosen wrong, would it? It wouldn’t have given Wade a Protector that was incompatible with his personality, right?

Well, magic had done stranger things in the past.

Finally, Wade reached the gazebo. He clasped his hands behind his back as he climbed the two steps up and left them there as he took his place on the right side of the pedestal.

The pedestal itself was simple, but Wade was more concerned with the black metal bowl sitting on it, and the black blade resting across the rim. And the fact that there seemed to be something under the bowl. Wade would have looked to see what it was—the glimpse he’d gotten of it as he approached the pedestal made him think of a cup—but then there was a tall and rather forbidding figure approaching, steering someone even younger than Wade by the shoulder.

This younger person stopped on the other side of the pedestal, leaving the forbidding figure to step to the third side.

“Heir.” The forbidding figure said, dipping their head. “Take the knife in your left hand.”

Wade obeyed. He didn’t dare not.

“Raise your right arm above the bowl.”

Wade wasn’t wearing his normal full-arm protection under his tunic, so when he lifted his arm it was skin bared to air.

“Wade Barnes of the First Realm,” the figure said with a voice that echoed with centuries past, “do you swear to watch over and protect the magic of the land?”

“I swear.” This was the easy part. Even if it wasn’t his duty, he wanted to do this.

And then it was like the magic stirred and took control of his left arm, then cut the inside of his right forearm.

Well okay, then.

“Do you swear to ensure the safety of the people in these lands, to the utmost of your ability?”

“I swear.” With this cut came a distinct suppression of his magic, like it was being held back. Probably to keep it from automatically trying to heal him.

“Do you swear to obey the ruling royalty in all matters, and, should you become the ruler of this kingdom, to consider the morals and actions of those under your jurisdiction?”

“I swear.” He wouldn’t become King. Wade knew that. He was the third in line; there wasn’t even the slightest chance.

“Do you swear to devote your life to care for every life that interacts with yours?”

“I swear.” The cut started before Wade was entirely finished speaking, and his voice went up a bit at the sudden pain. What was the magic doing?

“Do you swear to continue the blood of the nobility, to allow the magic of this Realm and the Realms as a whole to flow through the veins of your children, and to have the magic dictate how many are born and when?”

That wasn’t really fair, but it was life as a noble. “I swear.”

“Do you swear to perform all your duties, even at the cost of your own life?”

“I swear.” Wade’s right arm was shaking, and the cut was a bit jagged. It hurt all the same.

“Do you swear to do whatsoever is necessary to protect, to defend, and to sustain the magic of the land and the people, no matter the cost?”

“I swear.”

The figure moved Wade’s arm to the side of the bowl, allowing his blood to continue falling into the bowl.

“Protector.” The figure turned to the teen across from Wade. “Take the knife in your left hand.”

The teen took it from Wade’s hand, making a face at Wade’s blood coating the handle.

“Hold your right arm above the bowl, even with the level of Wade’s.”

Pat stared incredulously at the prince’s arm, then at how tall he was. How was he supposed to do that? He didn’t have that kind of height.

It took a bit of awkward stretching, but he finally managed it. It was incredibly stressful to hold his arm there like that, though. So much so that he almost missed Bluescale saying his name.

“...to protect Wade from physical, magical, and mental injury to the utmost of your ability?” Bluescale asked, her voice steady and her eyes piercing, like she knew he’d been distracted.

Fortunately Pat already knew what the oaths were, so he didn’t have to hear the first one entirely to know what she was asking.

“I swear.” The second he made the cut, it hurt. He didn’t know what else he expected.

“Do you swear to advise him in any and every thing necessary?” 

Well, okay, he was 14. He probably couldn’t give a ton of advice to a  _ prince  _ who’d had  _ training _ and  _ education _ and  _ lessons _ on how to do his job, but okay. Sure. He would give it a try. “I swear.”

Yep. Cutting his arm still hurt. Strange how that worked.

“Do you swear to give your life to protect him if so necessary?”

Ah, yes. One of the ultimate sacrifices a Protector could make (not the complete ultimate one; no, that honor was given to Protectors who died on the job, were brought back, and then died on the job again). 

No biggie. “I swear.”

His hand was slipping slightly on the handle, since blood, but he was sure he still had it. He wasn’t going to drop it, at least.

“Do you swear to come if he calls you from your medallion after death?”

That sounded cool. Sure. Not like he was literally entrusting his life to this stranger. “I swear.”

“Do you swear to be the unyielding reason to his emotion and the emotion to his unyielding reason, in all circumstances, whether great or small?”

Now how was Pat supposed to do that? He couldn’t even do that to himself yet. “I swear.”

“Do you swear to stand by him, no matter his position in life, even if you disagree with his decisions?”

“I swear.” It was really hard not to just say ‘yep’ at the questions.

“Do you swear to call him from the hands of death should it claim him while you are still alive?”

Pat took a deep breath and tightened his grip on the blade, then glanced up at the prince—his noble—only to realize Prince Barnes was listening with clear surprise. Then his eyes slid up and met Pat’s, and a literal jolt ran through Pat.

What? Was that supposed to happen?

“I so swear.”

Instead of pain, this cut sent all-too-familiar tingles running up and down his arm. Oh no. This would be bad.

“Grasp each other by the elbow.”

Oh, it hurt. This hurt so much. His magic was trying to tear its way out of his arm, and something warm and peaceful was trying to force its way in. The prince’s magic, maybe?

“Seven oaths you have made this day. Seven oaths have released you from the normal hold of life and death. Seven oaths, and the blood you spilled, have bound you as Noble and Protector.” Bluescale dumped the bowl of their mixed blood on their arms, sending it spraying over everything.

Wasn’t it supposed to turn to water? Why was it still blood?

Rough tingling was pressing up against Wade’s cuts as the figure picked up what had been under the bowl. Wade had been right. It was a cup. It also seemed already have something in it. Something dark red.

“Heir.” The figure held out the cup. “With your left hand, drink half.”

Wade obeyed—not that he could have refused, because the magic was still controlling his left hand.

The bitter taste of iron and something unidentifiable washed over his mouth, almost like blood. If the magic hadn’t been controlling Wade’s arm, he would have dropped the cup and spit it all out.

The second he swallowed, pain filled his body, tearing at his his chest and his head. 

Pat’s magic screamed, even as Bluescale took the half empty cup from the prince’s now-limp fingers, even as the prince doubled over onto the pedestal.

He could sense the prince, he realized with a start. He could feel raw agony coursing through the prince, nothing but pain. 

“Protector.” Bluescale said, getting his attention. “He will die unless you restore the balance.”

Pat looked over at her, eyes wide, only to see her holding out the cup to him.

The prince would die, and then Pat would die.

So Pat grabbed the cup and drank.

\-----

Wade could feel someone nearby. He couldn’t see them, he couldn’t find the energy to open his eyes and see who it was, but he could definitely tell they were there. Besides, his entire body felt somewhat numb, like he’d sat on his leg wrong and sent it to sleep.

“Prince Barnes.” That was a young voice, younger than just about anyone on palace grounds. “Come on. Get up. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

He sounded scared, Wade realized, and his brotherly instincts kicked into action. It took quite a bit of effort, but he managed to drag his eyes open to see his Protector giving him a worried look.

His Protector.

Energy suddenly rushed through Wade, and he quickly sat up and backed up a bit, only to realize he was indeed in his own bedroom.

His Protector curled up slightly at the foot of Wade’s bed, leaning against the wood of the footboard. He looked as awful as Wade felt.

“Sorry ‘bout that, your highness.” Wade’s Protector tilted his head a bit. “I didn’t mean to startle you so much.”

Wade ignored how sick he felt for a minute, instead focusing on the teen in front of him. 

His magic hummed happily.

Oh.  _ Oh. _ Wade was sensing his Protector.

“I, uh, figured I should introduce myself.” The teen tucked his hands under his crossed legs and pulled, like he was just as nervous as Wade was about this. “I’m Patrck. You can call me Pat. Or Patrck. Or...whatever you want, I guess.”

Protector Static. That was the teen’s full title. “I’m Wade. You can just called me Wade.”

Pat grinned softly, though he quickly looked like he regretted it. “There’s water next to you, if you want.”

While Wade got himself some water, Pat let himself slump into the footboard and watch him. He could actually sense the prince. That was weird. Sure, he’d known it was coming, but it was still weird.

How was this going to work? How was his life of servitude beginning?

“So, uh,” Wade finally said, “how does this work? I mean, this is probably awkward for both of us.”

“I follow you around and take orders from you.” Pat shrugged. “I guess.”

Wade made a face. “How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

Wade raised an eyebrow. “That’s kind of young for this, I thought.”

“I mean, you turned sixteen, so I don’t really have a choice about it.” Pat looked up, meeting Wade’s brown eyes. 

Wade frowned, but nodded. “Okay. Well, what do you want to do?”

Pat paused, looking at him. “What do you mean, what do I want to do? We’re both feeling ridiculously sick over drinking dragon blood, and will probably for several days, and you think we’re getting up and doing things?” Man, this guy was crazy.

“Well, yeah, but,” Wade shrugged, “we could play chess or cards or tell stories or something. We don’t have to be bored. What do you want to do?”

Pat blinked. “You’re the noble. You’re in charge.”

“You’re my new best friend.” Wade countered. “You get a say.”

Pat looked up, a warm feeling growing inside of him. “You sure?”

Wade nodded.

“Can we play creatures and caverns?”

Wade grinned. “Absolutely.”

**Author's Note:**

> So... you know how I said I wasn't really going to write any more for this series?
> 
> ...I was wrong. I'm currently writing the prequel for a new fic. Feel free to guess what it's about/who narrates it/what new misery I'm going to inflict on everyone.


End file.
